Page 7 of A Song of Air (Fae Elementals #4)

D ays of patrolling had led them nowhere. At least, not until the twelfth day.

It was Bryson who caught the scent first. For days, they’d been trying to track animals of the area, hoping that if they found them, the Kurreen wouldn’t be too far behind. But they’d been sparse, few and far in between.

It had been nothing but dead ends, so when Bryson finally caught the scent of one, her body vibrated with excitement and anxiety.

“I can smell them,” she called out to Everett, breaking into a run. After days of inactivity, she felt a thrill at the possibilities to come. She didn’t notice her legs were moving or that she lost Ev until the silence of the forest swallowed her whole.

She should have waited for him, she knew that. They weren’t supposed to wander off alone. It was too dangerous. But Bryson was smart, and she knew it was better to take to high ground instead of staying on the forest floor. As quietly as she possibly could, she slipped over to a cluster of trees. Her palms faced the ground, and she dug deep inside herself, pulling out the Elemental magic that lived inside. It took only moments to create a strong gust of wind that lifted her into the air. Her magic helped her all the way to the top of a tree until she could step onto a thick, sturdy branch. It groaned beneath her weight but otherwise held still.

She swore she could hear Everett calling for her somewhere in the forest. He would have her head for not waiting, but by the time he caught up, it could be too late. She heard the voices off in the distance. Her mind waded through them, picking apart tone and voice. She didn’t recognize anyone speaking, but what she could recognize was the gruff, angry resonance vibrating through the air.

From the air, her familiar shrieked. The noise pierced Bryson down to her soul. Her heart jumped up to her throat, and she opened a channel that linked them together, only to hear her familiar scream directly through her mind.

She tilted her head upwards. What’s going on?! she demanded, her breath caught in her throat.

Arrows! her familiar cried, and Bryson heard the soft note of panic echo through her mind.

I’m coming!

Bryson began to move, jumping from one branch to another, hopping from tree to tree. The wind propelled her forward. She was weightless, breathless, as she flew through the skies, her magic carrying her like the wings of a bird.

When she caught sight of moving figures, her feet and magic slowed considerably. She tried to catch her breath, even while her heart was beating unsteadily against her ribcage. She prayed no one could hear it, so she took a second to compose herself. To hold the breaths within her chest and force calm over her body before she continued on from the branches.

She needed to be careful, catch them off guard, because if they heard her, it would be the end. For her and her familiar.

The wind hid the creaking of her steps against the wood. A soft gust hid the sound of her drawing out her bow and notching an arrow. The shriek of her familiar overhead hid the sound of the drawstring being pulled back. The sounds of their own loud voices hid the small inhale she took in preparation to kill.

Several bodies took up space on the forest floor below. They were rough edges of shadow and color. Nothing but voices that moved around, one with heavier steps than another, one shifting on feet that seemed to be two different sizes. There were several. Ten men by her count. She could smell the stench of their sweat and the ale souring on their breaths.

She even heard the tightening of a drawstring that didn’t belong to her. The thwack as an arrow was shot. Bryson tried not to flinch when her familiar shrieked once again.

Bastards , she thought, knowing that it was definitely the Kurreen. No one else would hunt for hawks around here. Not for fun or for food.

Bryson’s teeth gritted as laughter echoed through the forest below.

“I almost got it that time.” The voice was gravely, like the one speaking had swallowed a handful of pebbles. His lungs rattled, and she knew immediately that he smoked. Smokers’ lungs always rumbled with disease.

She would kill him first.

Painfully.

Slowly.

Hide, Bryson urged her familiar. She knew the hawk would take offense to that. She was a prideful bird and preferred to fly wings-first into battle every single time. Hiding was for cowards, but also necessary if she wanted to live.

She didn’t reply, but Bryson sensed her annoyance tickling the edges of her mind.

“Leave the beast alone,” someone else snapped. That second voice was nasally. He wasn’t the tallest of the bunch, either. At least, not that she could tell from the distance. “Looks like Rupp brought us something far more exciting.”

Twigs and leaves crackled, making a mess of the ground. Bryson held her breath as another human approached from the shadows and...

The scent of a fizzling drink—cider—perfumed through the air in a strong cloud. It was too strong of a scent to belong to a human. It was a pleasant odor, one she didn’t recognize, even as she combed through her mental list of scents of the Fae back at the encampment.

Alongside fizzling cider, the citrusy aroma of oranges permeated through her nostrils. It was a more subtle hint, and yet she caught it right before she saw the figures the smells belonged to. Two of them, trapped beneath an iron and ashwood-laced net.

“What have you got there?” the gravelly voice asked.

“Found them by the stream.” There was the tug of the net and it dug into their skin. A hiss of burning flesh. The frightened whimper of a child.

Her breath caught and the urge to loosen the arrow rose. That was a child down there. They’d kidnapped a child.

She tried to control her rage, shoving it deep down so she could first gauge their positions accurately, determine threat levels, and decide who she would kill first.

Smoker first, for daring to shoot at her familiar. Then the man who’d bound a child in poison.

She quieted her mind and listened and watched.

“A Fae and his half-breed.” There were chortles and snickers. They shifted, closing in a circle around said Fae and child. The child whimpered out of fear, and her heart broke at the sound.

“Now, gentleman...” This voice belonged to the Fae. It was almost melodic in its cadence, and while she couldn’t find any underlying fear in the sound, she could make out the caution. A wise Fae, then. Perhaps he wouldn’t interfere when the killing began. “Let’s be civil.”

“You hear that? A civil Fae!” one of the men spat. “That’s like saying an animal has manners and thoughts.”

What a bastard, her familiar snapped in her mind.

Bryson’s lip kicked up. Maybe he’d be the one she would kill first, for that comment alone.

“Look, you guys really, really don’t want to do this,” the Fae tried again.

The humans ignored him, though. “How much do you reckon they’ll take them for?”

“For a Fae, he’s got a pretty face. They’ll want him for the brothels in Vellm. As for the brat, he’ll fetch a pretty penny as a slave...”

Hearing their malicious plans for the Fae boiled her blood. The time for waiting was over. Instinct kicked in, urging her to move. The first arrow flew almost as if by its own accord. The wind guided it as it curved through the branches and lodged itself deep into the throat of the human speaking.

His laughter was cut off with a strangled gurgle as he choked on his blood. The thud of his body hitting the ground let her know he’d died.

She didn’t give the humans a moment to process the situation before she jumped into the chaos. The wind whipped around her waist, lifting and guiding her to the ground. Their shouts of fear were almost calming. Usually, Bryson avoided getting this close to a fight, preferring to stay in the trees and let the arrows do the work for her.

But the rage inside her boiled over, finally finding a purpose.

Or at least an outlet for it.

And that would just have to do.

“What the f—” Before the human could finish, an arrow was in her fingers, notched, and loosed in his direction. It hit true right through his gaping mouth, silencing him forever. Only when their second comrade fell did the humans try to attack.

Arrows flew in her direction, but she shot a gust of wind, changing their course, effectively pushing it back towards them. And even though everything happened so fast, she sent a ball of protective wind to encircle the Fae and his child. It likely didn’t block them from the violence of the battle or the swiftness of it, either.

“Please! Mercy!” The last human had fallen to his knees, his own arrow lodged deep in his thigh.

Had he shown mercy the moment he’d tried to shoot her familiar to the ground? She wanted to spit those venomous words, but held them back. It didn’t matter what she said or how she said it. It would do no good to try and convince him of his wrongs right before his inevitable death.

The only thing that mattered was that he died.

Predator or prey, her familiar’s voice echoed in her head.

And for a single second, Bryson knew the answer as she pulled out an arrow and sent it flying towards his throat. The answer seemed to pierce the silence of the forest, even as his body slapped to the ground and he twitched against the leaves in his final moments.

Predator.

All was still for a single second, as she let her magic drift away. The air stilled. Her familiar shrieked and then swooped down low, landing against Bryson’s shoulder. The scent of blood was heavy in the air, and the sound of a child’s cries had her turning.

“Are you two alright?” she asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. She wasn’t sure if there were more Kurreen nearby, or if these were the only ones in the area. She’d hoped that was a single, measly crew. Let this whole mess be over and done with.

“We’re fine,” that elegant voice replied. She couldn’t make out much of him from beneath the compress of the net. “Wait...” The word rippled with shock. “You’re—”

“Vision impaired?” She tilted her head to the side, her lips turning up into a smile. She knew it made her discolored eyes look eerie and the scars on her face stand out so much more. “I know.”

Her familiar ruffled her feathers and chirped.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Really? That’s usually what everyone means. Then again, I guess you wouldn’t know that since you don’t know me . It’s not very obvious.” She stepped closer, careful to avoid the blood and bodies on the ground. She should have been more cautious, but the child’s cries were like a beacon to her, and out of instinct, she wanted to lend a helping hand. And if either of them were injured, she would take them back with her to camp so Malika could look them over. “My name is Bryson Varik,” she offered with a smile. “Let’s get this net off you, yeah?”

She was careful. Instead of using her hands to tear at the net, she used several arrows. The sharp tips cut through the rope. Once it snapped, she sent a gust of wind its way, shoving it far away from their bodies.

The child sniffled once he was free. The Fae stood and helped the boy to a stand as well. They dusted themselves off, assessed themselves. She couldn’t see if the net had left visible markings against their skin, though, no matter how hard she squinted.

Her head began to pound.

Finally, the little boy looked up at her. He was young, and his body was small, his voice full of gratitude and fear. “I’m Thorne Basil Rhian.”

Rhian.

The name sounded familiar, though she couldn’t quite place where she’d heard it before.

“Nice to meet you. Are you hurt?”

“N-no.”

“Good.” She straightened, turning her attention towards the Fae man. She could make out a mess of blond hair and tan skin. Dark clothes adorned his tall frame and while she could make out his facial features, she couldn’t gauge if he was handsome or not.

Oh, he’s very handsome, indeed. She swore she heard the damn hawk coo. He’s staring at you with awe. Doesn’t seem threatening.

Her familiar was a good judge of character, so she braved a step forward. “And you are?”

“My name is Clay Valentino... You’re... you’re an Elemental, aren’t you?”

She rocked back on her heels a second before whirling and making her way over to the dead bodies. With slow precision, she began pulling her arrows from their throats, cleaning the blood on the ground as she went before shoving them back into the quiver.

“I am,” she said.

The Fae man—Clay Valentino—stayed where he was. She could feel his gaze heavy on her back, and she wondered what he was thinking.

Everyone knew how rare Elementals were. She wondered if he knew just how rare she actually was, if he could somehow see through the cloak and shirt to the scars beneath. Did they press against her clothes? Was it obvious that she was the last of her kind?

She took a steadying breath, shoving those thoughts away. “Did you escape from the emperor’s soldiers?” she asked. She didn’t think so. The Fae who escaped from soldiers usually smelt of sickness or death. These two smelled like neither.

They smelled... clean.

“No, we’re traveling with a group and got separated.”

Her mind wandered to Everett.

Hefting the quiver high over her shoulder and slinging the bow around her body, she smiled. “We have a camp not too far from here,” she offered. “We protect Fae and humans hiding from the emperor. You and your people can come with us.”

She wasn’t sure what Arlo and Ev would say about her inviting a group of unknown Fae into their camp. It wasn’t so different from what they already did, except these Fae weren’t confined to wagons. They weren’t vulnerable. Couldn’t be easily manipulated. She was still doing her duty to their community by offering, though.

“I think they’d like that.”

“Do you remember where you were separated?” Her familiar took to the skies with a cry. “Perhaps my familiar and I can help?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze still heavy on her. “I remember where we set up camp.”

“Then lead the way.” He turned and started west. “Oh, and Clay Valentino?”

“Yeah?”

“If you betray me, I’ll send an arrow straight to your heart.”

She swore she heard a touch of amusement in his pretty little voice. “Noted.”